


toy cars on a track

by vamoosi



Category: Motorcity
Genre: M/M, Trans Character, boning. they boned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-08
Updated: 2012-12-08
Packaged: 2017-11-20 15:35:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/586929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vamoosi/pseuds/vamoosi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frickin' Mike Chilton, Mike whose name probably gets people to perk up everywhere up top and down below, Mike who regularly drives into swarms of bots and comes out unscathed, Mike who's got all his attention focused on Chuck for some unfathomable reason and god it's overwhelming, it's impossible, sometimes he gets so wrapped up in how Mike cares for him that he ends up hyperventilating.</p>
<p>He's really trying not to cry on Mike's back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	toy cars on a track

**Author's Note:**

> this is for the joey. thank you, the joey. ur welcome, the joey

Mike's just some kind of long-limbed, flush-skinned car, that's it, not the real kind but the ones with remote controls and fiddly joysticks that Chuck can handle. He's just something a little more complex than that but oh god that makes him sound so simple, it's not true in the least since Mike's a lot like cracking open one of the old computers you can find once in a while out in the junkyards, just instead of striated ribbons and tangled up cords and a load of dust he's tired-eyed smiles, tilting slopes of shrugged shoulders, the tuck of his cheeks when he grins and the sweeps of his fingers around Chuck's knuckles when he grabs Chuck's hands. And he's buzzing energy in all his joints, and he's confidence that Chuck's almost sure is a magnet buried in his chest, and he's way late nights where he waves a hand to tell Chuck nah it's ok I'm fine, just trouble sleeping. And he's. He's just a computer, Chuck, he's just a different kind of car, the kind that stretches out onto his heels and forearms so that early-morning moonlight can skitter down pale across his back. Acceleration, brake, reverse, just gotta find them. 

"Chuckles? You're zoning out on me, buddy." Mike props himself up with a hand, twisting up so he can look Chuck in the eyes and Chuck just gets stuck on how the edges of his muscles curl up. Mike's hair is in his face, caught on his eyelashes, tamped down with a bit of sweat and Chuck thinks first that they both need a haircut bad and second that Jesus, Mike Chilton. "You ok back there?"

"Yeah, I'm!" He gets a hand up in his own hair, pushes it back like it'll stay there, like scrubbing the heel of his palm up over his cheeks will wash off the blush. The breath that comes out of him is way too shaky to have Mike believe him. And, yeah, there's Mike shifting, shins sliding across the sheets so that he could nudge his toes up against Chuck's calf, stupid and sweet and Chuck's gonna knock that doofy grin right off his face. "I'm good. I'm ok." 

Chuck still has his one hand on Mike's hip, resting his fingers on the solid shape of his hipbone because the steady warmth coming off Mike is better than any adrenaline rush. He's up on his knees, thighs sort of shivering from the nerves and the promise of it, the head of his dick nudging up against Mike and rocking back gentle into him, and with Mike looking up at him he can only duck his head down so that his hair drops in front of his eyes. His bangs flutter when he gives out another one of those shaky exhales. Just a toy car, he reminds himself, not Mike Chilton with his danger blindness or the way he kind of glows without light, what the hell, Chuck, what does that even mean. He sucks his lip into his mouth and gets his hair back out of the way and Mike is still looking at him like that, like That, soft around the edges of his eyes and a smile painted up on half his mouth and something like a sigh just drawn into his lungs. 

"Nervous?" he asks. 

"No."

"Yeah?"

The smile's up full power, tilted like it's gonna slide right off Mike's face, less mocking than it is just endeared, you know, like he thinks Chuck's the thing responsible for powering his car or something, and in response Chuck drops back down onto his heels. "Okay, yes, I am, if you  _really_  need to know. But that doesn't mean you have to get up and -- or... it does, ok." 

Mike's rolled over and up onto his knees in seconds, in close next to Chuck and that grin in such tight proximity is like standing next to a campfire. Mike stupid frickin' Chilton -- he tones it down, closes his mouth over the smile, brings up his hands to frame Chuck's face. His fingers hang loose around Chuck's ears and cheeks. Sometimes Mike looks at him like he's not sure whether to treat him like glass or like -- like an old teddy, the kind he probably had since he was too young to remember, the kind that even when you're fully grown you press kisses to its thread nose. He looks at Chuck so  _hard_  that Chuck's more red than he is freckle-flecked pale. Their breaths push against each other. 

Mike's close enough that Chuck thinks maybe he feels the beat of his heart through the air. "Hey," he says. Like he's just discovered Chuck is there. Like they're meeting at breakfast and not stripped down to the skin at god-knows-what hour and curled up at the last foot of the bed, both of them hard and Mike's dick shifting subtle against Chuck's. 

"It's ok," Mike says. He pushes Chuck's bangs up with a thumb, and he's so close that his little half-a-laugh comes as a puff against Chuck's cheek and nose. "Hey, it's ok, Chuckles, it'll be fine." Tucks the ends of Chuck's bangs behind his ear, even if they're not quite long enough so most of them just slip down over his eyes again, and Mike's got his hand going down Chuck's arm now, real soft and quiet. It's dark in here but Chuck's pretty sure Mike can see the blush that trails after his hands. Then Mike jumps suddenly like he's shocked himself -- "I mean, if you still wanna do this. It's cool if you don't. We can just knock stuff around so that anyone listening in thinks we did it." 

"Mikey!" Chuck swats at Mike's hand, goes to scuttle backwards but nearly falls off the bed so Mike ends up grabbing him around the ribs to keep him from tumbling onto the floor. There's a moment that Chuck hangs at this ridiculous angle before Mike's grin breaks out wider and that's damn contagious, he heaves Chuck back onto the bed and Chuck buries his face into his hands to hide his blushing and snickering. "Don't jump ship on me," Mike says, and Chuck promises him "I'll kick you off next time." He rubs at his eyes and lets out a low whew of a breath. 

"I do want to, though," he says when the laughter's drained out and left him a little limp. "I really wanna. I just..." He lets his shoulders drop, his arms drape down over his knees, and shrugs one-sidedly. Doesn't look up at Mike cause jeeze it's hard enough verbalizing this all in the first place. His voice is a crackling hush. "I just don't want to screw this up because that would be a  _terrible_  first sex impression." 

Mike's laughing, laughing but it's that low laugh that leans close and sounds like comfort and home. He still has his hands on Chuck's sides and his thumbs rub circle at the low end of the swell of Chuck's chest. "Bro, you really don't have to worry about that. I'm about 100% certain that no matter what you do, it'll be fine."

"There's really no way you can be that sure, Mike." 

And Mike does that  _shrug_ , like he's got all the answer in the world and it's not a big deal at all. "Sure I can. It's gonna be great cause it's gonna be you." 

"Oh my god, stop looking at me." Chuck has to push Mike back face down on the bed, Mike laughing loud the whole time, getting back on his hands and knees and Chuck slumps over him and buries his face in the small of Mike's back, and it's got dried sweat on it and it's bony and he takes this big steadying breath. Frickin' Mike Chilton, Mike whose name probably gets people to perk up everywhere up top and down below, Mike who regularly drives into swarms of bots and comes out unscathed, Mike who's got all his attention focused on Chuck for some unfathomable reason and god it's overwhelming, it's impossible, sometimes he gets so wrapped up in how Mike cares for him that he ends up hyperventilating.

He's really trying not to cry on Mike's back. 

"You good, Chuckles?" Mike asks. He's back to his forearms, resting back on his heels, way too casual. Chuck straightens up some and digs around blindly in the sheets till he finds the pump bottle of lubricant that they always seem to find between the blankets or under the dresser and he squeezes more out onto his fingers, strokes it down onto his cock. Even after the wait he's still so turned on; the motions of slicking himself up pushes his dick into him further and that's good in itself. Mike is watching him coolly over his shoulder, and god, he has to do this. 

He's pressing up against Mike when Mike goes, "Wait, hold on a second." And okay, crap, he's screwed up, but then Mike's just rolling over onto his back and he hooks his feet behind Chucks back and goes, "All right, now we're good." 

And Chuck's gotta kiss him because he doesn't know what else to do. It gets their dicks rubbing up together and Mike smiles into it. He reaches down, gets a hand around Chuck, fingers sliding in the lube and he's gentle enough that Chuck hardly feels it. It's a ploy to get Chuck to push into his hand and, well, fine, Mike wins, Chuck ruts hard against him. 

"All right, all right, stop it," Chuck mutters against Mike's mouth. He has to actually take Mike's hand off him and Mike whines like a needy child. He ought to roll his eyes but it just gets him squared up against Mike even faster, knowing he wants it that bad. His mouth is going dry. "I'm, uh," he says, has to swallow to get his voice back, "I'm gonna do it, ok?" 

Mike makes this indistinct 'uh-huh' sound. Chuck takes a breath and he pushes in. And at first, the countering push isn't even too much to notice, and he's so focused on doing this right that he hardly hears the hitch in Mike's breath. Chuck glances up for a 'you ok' but his voice sticks there at the top of his throat because Mike's eyes are closed already, mouth dropped open, there's slack in his shoulders but his hand is twitching at his hip and what comes out of Chuck's mouth instead is "oh my god." Mike cracks his eyes open and gives half a smile. 

"Are we cool, Chuckles?" 

"I -- I dunno, are we?" Mike shifts around him and oh, he felt that. 

"Yeah," Mike says, glancing down and licking at his lips. "C'mon." 

When Chuck pulls out first, they both give out these parallel shuddering breaths that edge on sounds. It drags Chuck's cock forward against him, rubs forward, and on the push back in it gets in deeper and god, Chuck gets it now, really does, he lets his mouth fall open and his breathing comes out as an audible 'ha.' Mike's legs go tighter around him, press up against his ribs. He bottoms out again and Mike tips his head back to make this noise like m's and n's pressed up together, and Chuck gets his hands tight on Mike's thighs and hips and stops holding back. 

Every thrust into Mike is carried down into him, echoed pushes against Mike's skin and the soft sensitive parts of Chuck. He swears he pushes farther and farther into Mike every time, the way Mike's pulling at him suggesting it isn't enough, the tug and press is rocking against Chuck hard and it's so fucking good, it's real, Mike's spreading his legs wider every time and his mouth is open to pull at air like he isn't getting enough. The pinch of Chuck's harness is practically grounding -- if he didn't have that tiny pain he'd probably leave this damn earth, he wouldn't be able to handle it. He stares at the stretched-out length of Mike's neck through his bangs, the swallows it works down, he says 'Christ, Mike, god' on the short spans of his breathing. He pulls at Mike's hips to get him more stable and then leans down to mouth at the tendons in Mike's neck and it must have shifted him in Mike because there's gasping noises on Mike's lips, a scrabbling hand at the nape of Chuck's neck. 

Chuck lets him, follows the push of his hand, licks shakily at Mike's pulse and the heaves of his muscles. He ducks down further to suck a mark on the plane of Mike's chest. He ruts into Mike in these short, shallow thrusts, he doesn't have the leverage, but he's already in deep and the quick jerks have him groaning into Mike's skin. Mike drags him up -- grabs at Chuck's shoulders a little too hard, licks at Chuck's mouth and his is cold from his open-mouthed breathing. He pulls at Chuck's lip and Chuck breathes out his name and Mike echoes with a low "Chuck" and this is cliche, this should probably last longer, but forget should. 

Chuck ducks his head down, pushes his hands into the dip of Mike's thighs, rests his forehead against Mike's collarbone. His hips are stuttering, he can feel Mike's stutter back, a pattering morse code and it probably spells out 'god, fuck, oh god.' One of his hands slips and he plants it in the sheets, props himself up on it so he can get some decent push, without Mike's skin between his teeth his noises are so clear but he can't actually care, the movements are pushing his dick against him just right and he shudders all the way down when he finds this one spot that hits him hard and he says loud, "Shit, oh shit, Mike," and rocks hard on that place. He doesn't even know if it's doing anything for Mike anymore, he's not getting visuals, he drops a hand to push the base of his cock against him and his eyes squeeze shut reflexively, he's moaning nonsense sounds and halves of swears while his legs and hips shake. He's aware that his hips are jerking into Mike through this whole orgasm, his ears filter out the sounds of Mike's answering groans. 

When he comes down enough to get a hold of visual processing again, Mike is squirming against him, and Jesus he has his head back and his hand around his cock. He's choking out vowels with the heaves of his chest, a crescendo with his face scrunched up, and it's a shock when he comes and Chuck's name comes out as a cry, a shock and it's so fucking cool. Chuck rears back onto his heels and watches Mike come onto his stomach and chest. 

They end up breathing in syncopated tandem. Chuck rubs his thumbs in thoughtless circles against the join of Mike's hips and thighs. After a while, Mike unhooks his ankles from behind Chuck's back and pushes gently on Chuck's hip with his toes. "Keep it slow, Chuckles," he says, and Chuck pulls out. It's a little uncomfortable for them both but they catch each other grimacing and Mike just laughs. He grabs a couple tissues from a box nearby, wipes himself off, and reaches over to tug at the straps on Chuck's harness. They get tangled up, and Chuck has to kick it off of his feet, and when he pulls his dick out he hisses at the weird discomfort of how empty it leaves him feeling but Mike sets it aside delicately and then reaches out for Chuck. 

They're gross, sticky and warm and cool at the same time, too hot from the sex to really cuddle but Chuck curls up into Mike anyway and Mike presses kisses all the way around his face. He drops one onto Chuck's lips and says, "See? Told you it'd be awesome." 

"Ugh, dude, shut up," Chuck says back, but he smiles sloppily and kisses Mike back. 


End file.
